


The Lonely Death

by cuddlyharkness



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: About to Die, Death, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 05:58:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5323076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlyharkness/pseuds/cuddlyharkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompto was out scouting. That's all. They needed supplies, and he voluntered to go in Noctis's place. But after an attack, he's left in the hands of death. </p>
<p>Warning: No such thing as a happy ending lives here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lonely Death

The ground was cold beneath him as he looked up at the stars, his eyes struggling to focus on the distance dots far above him. Of course, he'd always imagined he'd go out under the stars. He'd always dreamed he'd go peacefully, and peace was just what he was getting that night. 

The sky was pitch black, an all-consuming darkness that threatened to creep up over him and engulf him until nothing was left. The stars sparkled like thousands of watchful eyes, observing him with what he could only imagine was vague curiousity at best. They had better things to do than watch the shaking form of a dying man. 

Sighing, his breathing slowly became more labored. His eyes began to slip closed, his hands holding his wounds in a pitiful attempt to stop the bleeding. He'd not been able to move in what seemed like years, and every breath was getting more and more painful. The effort was beginning to wear on him. 

Still, at least his friends were safe. He'd made sure of that, firing off gunshot after gunshot that he was sure rang out farther and wider than any he'd let out before. A warning, a plea... He wasn't sure what he could call it. 

As he lay there in the grass, his body growing colder, he thought about his friends. Gladio, with his heart and soul like the eagle that was inked on his body. Gladio was close, he was the closest thing to a brother he'd had in a long time. Ignis, with his seemingly impossible tolerance and his deeper way of seeing things. He was a royal advisor after all, he had to be deep like that. 

Finally, his thoughts drifted to his last and, always in his mind, most important friend. Noctis was their prince, he was the one person he'd do anything for. His eyes watered as he thought about that sleepy man, his heart of gold locked away behind bars he knew he could never climb. He was quick, yeah. But he wasn't skilled enough to earn such a deep look into Noct's soul. His body shook as goosebumps rose over his skin, and slowly he let out a faint whimper. 

Tears began to roll down his face as he thought about what it might be like to die. What was waiting for him, if anything? What would he see? Would he see anything? Or would it just be darkness? Quietly, he sobbed to himself as his limbs started to feel numb. He'd never know just what had possessed him to cry out, but he did. All his frustration and fear, every emotion he'd never acted on, all poured out at once into one agonzed scream. Slowly, he sunk back onto the grass and fell into a fit of whimpers. 

As his eyes slipped closed, he heard the muffled sounds of feet rushing across the grass. Heavy steps, practiced steps, and frantic steps rushed forward. Voices called out to him, the desperation and fear muddling together and clouding what senses he had left. He felt hands on his, warm and shaky as they rested over the wound. Stronger arms picked him up, holding him tightly as rushed voices tumbled over each other. Then the world fell silent.

* * *

In the quiet of a field, far from their emcampment, three boys found their childhood friend mortally wounded after the prince had forseen the coming fate. Prompto, as the fallen was named, had been scouting the area, trying to see if they could scavange anything for their dwindling supplies in place of their treasured prince. They were so close to their destination, only a few miles away even. But as fate would have it, only three would walk into the city of ruin.

Hearts were heavy as they grieved and mourned, the loss weighing on their minds. They were supposed to be four in number, not three. They swore they could feel the prescence of their fallen brother at their backs, watching over them with hushed whispers. The prince could feel the wraith against the hairs on his neck, the guard could feel the coldness in the air, and the advisor could feel the eyes of the dead watching them as they crossed a threshold the wraith had only dreamed of witnessing. 

It took a long time to sink in. But when it did, the prince fell silent. No words escaped his lips for what seemed hours. Finally, when he spoke again, the others were left with the haunting words dancing on their skin. 

_"It should have been me."_

**Author's Note:**

> I kept listening to the Somnus Instrumental from the game and it keeps making me think of sad things. This is one of those things.


End file.
